Friday, April 27, 2007
Ada's #26
Mrs. Terwilliger and the Animals
-For Mrs. Elizabeth Terwilliger of Mill Valley 1909-2006
Along the Butterfly Grove at Muir Beach,
the Wildlife Sanctuary in Tiburon, the
wetlands in the Muir Woods, and the
fields of Angel Island, Mrs. Terwilliger
taught us about the Sights and Sounds
of the Seasons. When a rare flower
or insect came into view on the long
walks along the wetland trails,
Mrs. Terwilliger would cry, “Something
Special.” And when I got home I’d
go in my backyard and see a red
anthill or a woodpecker on the cedar
from my seat in the tire swing and yell,
“Something Special.” And it seemed
like all the animals regarded her too,
in that way that we did, silent ache.
It seems such an ordinary thing, to
be appreciative of life, to walk along
like a natural thing, naturally. There
were garter snakes, rubber boas,
salamanders and newts, thrushes,
kinglets, warblers, and ravens and
there were tule elk, mule deers,
and sea clowns, soft bodied sea slugs,
and there were people too.
Mrs. Terwilliger would say, There
are people too, and us, small animals,
would stare with our wide eyes
glued to the white sea like the whole world
was a sleeper wave, waiting for us
to stop watching.
Friday, April 20, 2007
All our poems..
have gone back into our pockets. Just so you know. But April's not over yet! There will be plenty more! I'm behind, but I'm determined to finish on time. Wish me luck, I need it.
Ada
Ada
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Ada's #15
Baptized
Leave this, in the middle of the road,
your tread-worn, thread bare, broken shoes,
your terrible performance in the human race,
leave this. Tonight you are the first child,
the messenger so loved even your dirty
soul couldn’t stop the river from welcoming you.
Leave this, in the middle of the road,
your tread-worn, thread bare, broken shoes,
your terrible performance in the human race,
leave this. Tonight you are the first child,
the messenger so loved even your dirty
soul couldn’t stop the river from welcoming you.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Ada's for April 5th.
Lift
First thing you notice is the coming of the train
and how it hums a little louder in the ear drum.
Then the sky a little brighter and another shift in the
air and another bird and suddenly he’s gone.
First thing you notice is the coming of the train
and how it hums a little louder in the ear drum.
Then the sky a little brighter and another shift in the
air and another bird and suddenly he’s gone.
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
Jen's #4: Happy Birthday, Debbie Stein!
For Deb at 40
I dreamt we were old—
actually old, not old
like we think we are—
strolling somewhere foresty,
years beyond the peppy whos
we were in torn black tights at 20,
or the windy whos in scarves
that we are now, but the whos
to hopefully come knock wood—
with Velcro shoes and a sore limp
bucking above them, scuffed up
glasses on a leash, hearing aids.
But we still contained within us
all the people we'd ever been
and ever loved. We didn't have to say
the names out loud. We knew each other's
long, rambling lists like our own.
I dreamt we were old—
actually old, not old
like we think we are—
strolling somewhere foresty,
years beyond the peppy whos
we were in torn black tights at 20,
or the windy whos in scarves
that we are now, but the whos
to hopefully come knock wood—
with Velcro shoes and a sore limp
bucking above them, scuffed up
glasses on a leash, hearing aids.
But we still contained within us
all the people we'd ever been
and ever loved. We didn't have to say
the names out loud. We knew each other's
long, rambling lists like our own.
Two for this big fake world
First:
this big fake world's first review
Second:
Playwright, Trish Harnetiaux, shares her own, very sincere, letter to Ronald Regan:
this big fake world's first review
Second:
Playwright, Trish Harnetiaux, shares her own, very sincere, letter to Ronald Regan:
Monday, April 02, 2007
Ada's for April 1st:
Well-Made Human
There is a corner of my apartment, thick in green
curtains, a green cake stand, and two plastic,
red-crowned cardinals that I stare at, often,
when I need to feel well-made in the world.
It is not a fancy corner, it is not the clean, tall ceilings
of the magazine covers, but I like most that it is mine.
I have hung the curtains, put those bowing birds on the
otherwise unused cake stand and made a nest of them.
We are given so much to lay on the table and sort through,
so many piles of anger and regret, and yet, in one
corner it is always spring. This is my honeysuckle and rose,
my berry bush and bloom and this is my habitat,
and this is my loosely woven home and this is my kingdom:
Animalia.
There is a corner of my apartment, thick in green
curtains, a green cake stand, and two plastic,
red-crowned cardinals that I stare at, often,
when I need to feel well-made in the world.
It is not a fancy corner, it is not the clean, tall ceilings
of the magazine covers, but I like most that it is mine.
I have hung the curtains, put those bowing birds on the
otherwise unused cake stand and made a nest of them.
We are given so much to lay on the table and sort through,
so many piles of anger and regret, and yet, in one
corner it is always spring. This is my honeysuckle and rose,
my berry bush and bloom and this is my habitat,
and this is my loosely woven home and this is my kingdom:
Animalia.
Sunday, April 01, 2007
NAPOWRIMO Comes Butt Once a Year: Jen's #1
Hey everyone, Jennie El Knox here. I'll be dining at Captain Lala's table for NAPOWRIMO of 07. How lovely of you to invite me, Lala! Little does she know that I'm gonna eat everything in her blog, use the phone to make long distance calls, and stink up her bathroom.
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